


Two Seasons for the Price of One

by 3HobbitsInATrenchcoat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Day At The Beach, Gravity Falls Secret Santa 2020, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Pines Family Bonding, Self-Insert, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat
Summary: You're spending some time out of your winter with the Pines family, but when you arrive certain members of the family (your erstwhile con-man boyfriend) are nowhere to be found. You spend some time bonding with the younger twins before you receive a surprising gift...
Relationships: Stan Pines/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Two Seasons for the Price of One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nour386](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nour386/gifts).



> Happy Holidays! This is a present for Nour386, who requested: _Stan/M!reader... having a fun day together... Pines family having some fun winter themed fun, alternatively, pines fam surviving in the horrible summer heat (listen, Australia is hot as hell rn)_. I kinda combined all these things so I hope you like it!
> 
> Betaed by Funkinggrunkles <3 thank you ily
> 
> Gravity Falls Secret Santa 2020

Your first full day at the shack you sleep in.

Your bus had gotten in late and you’d barely had the energy to brush your teeth and tumble into Stan’s empty bed before sleep claimed you. Now you find yourself blinking awake in the ever-present chill of an Oregon winter, grateful for the wood stove in the corner keeping everything warm.

Wait. You squint at the stove suspiciously. It hadn’t been on last night which meant that someone had tended it… maybe Stan had arrived while you were asleep! Rude of the man to not crawl into bed beside you though. Rubbing the sleep crusties from your eyes you hiss as your feet make contact with the cold hardwood of the floor. You would think the man would like a rug on his floor but apparently not.

Wrapping Stan’s old robe around you, you pad downstairs, following the smell of coffee. There’s no sign of the rest of the family until you reach the kitchen to find Soos sitting at the table with his account books.

“Oh, hey dude,” says the former handyman absently, running a finger down the carefully neat columns. “Glad to see you’re up and about, Mabel was getting worried.”

You chuckle, still following your nose to the coffee pot. “She doesn’t need to, I just had a long bus ride and I guess my body decided I needed the sleep.” You pour a mug of coffee so thick your spoon might be able to stand in it… hard to tell if the thickness is the caffeine content or the glitter though. Mabel must have been on coffee duty this morning, which means… “Stan and Ford haven’t gotten in yet, have they?”

“Sorry, dude,” Soos turns his full attention to you, taking off his recently-acquired reading glasses and leaning back in his chair. Even though he’s not Stan’s biological kid, his mannerisms still reminds you strongly of your partner. You take a sip of your coffee to cover the pang of missing the man. “Far as I know they aren’t due in until later this afternoon.”

“Ah. I was hoping…” you huff out a humorless laugh. “I was hoping maybe Stan had been the one to stoke the little oven in his room. Lemme guess though… Mabel?”

Soos chuckles, eyes squinting with mirth. “Got it in one! She said she was under orders not to let you freeze on your first night here.”

You smile, thinking about Stan giving his little niece those very orders. Both of them have hearts of gold and you can’t help the soft warmth that creeps into your chest at the care that this family has shown you. You look around the cozy kitchen as you finish off your coffee, ignoring the slight grit of the edible glitter at the bottom of your mug. Not much has changed in the past couple years since Stan stepped down as Mr. Mystery, but there are a couple new aprons hanging on the wall and a few pans have been replaced. The little things, but nothing that has changed the space entirely.

“Speaking of the little gremlins,” you say when your mug is empty and sitting in the sink. “Where have they run off to? They can’t have gone far if they’re waiting for their grunkles.”

Soos opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by a loud  _ thwack  _ as a snowball impacts the kitchen window. You glance out to see Dipper looking vaguely horrified and Mabel laughing her ass off, laying in a snowbank. Question answered.

You’re pulling away from the window when Mabel abruptly sits up, waving at you. You hesitantly wave back and her wave changes to a grand gesture clearly indicating you should come outside. You snort and make a show of wrapping Stan’s robe more closely about you before you realize she can’t see you do that. With a grumble, you shuffle over to the door and shove your feet into some of Stan’s many, many slippers before making your way out onto the porch.

The icy outside air hits you like a punch to the face and you can’t help the gasp that clouds from your lips. You gingerly step to the edge of the porch and look out over the pristine snowbanks made a little less pristine by somehow glittery snow-angels and a couple lopsided snowmen. Mabel pokes her head from around the corner of the Shack, a grin plastered across her cold-reddened face.

“You should come join us! Honorary grunkles get family time too!”

You barely manage not to choke. You’re just Stan’s boyfriend… you aren’t… well... not yet, anyway. The ring in your suitcase is burning a hole in your concentration these days. “I’m… honored.” you manage to wheeze out, proud of yourself. “Little hard to play in the snow in this getup though.” You gesture at your t-shirt and fleece sleep pants under Stan’s robe and wiggle your slippered foot. Mabel’s eyes twinkle and you suddenly feel true fear.

“Don’t be silly! There’s a new sweater for you warming by the stove in Grunkle Stan’s room!” Mabel shoos you back inside and towards the stairs. “Get changed and then meet us outside! We need a fourth for a snowball battle!”

You’re about to ask her who the other person playing is, but she’s already back down the hall and yelling for Soos. Something about needing a scorekeeper. The old walls of the shack inexplicably absorb the rest of what she’s saying and you shrug as you go back into your partner’s bedroom.

There is indeed a brand new sweater draped over the back of a chair by the warm stove. You missed it earlier, but you’re going to chalk that up to not being quite awake pre-coffee. You pull on warm clothes that will mostly survive the snow and then tug the sweater over your head. It’s a gorgeous sea-foam green with a scallop shell on the front, a little odd for the weather currently outside, but it fits perfectly like every sweater Mabel has ever made.

Your eyes flick back to the bed and your mind wars with you for a moment, debating the merits of burying your face in sheets that smell (however distantly) like your boyfriend instead of going outside to enjoy the fresh snowfall. Mabel calling your name pulls you away from that fantasy, you’ll see the man soon enough, no need to get creepy.

You pull on a snow coat as you thump back downstairs and outside, only to be immediately met with a snowball to the face. “Nice shot, Dee!” yells Soos from where he’s perched on the couch with a mug of cocoa cupped in his gloved hands. “Oop, I’m not supposed to take sides. That’s one point to Team M!”

Across the yard and behind a hastily constructed berm of snow, you see Melody and Mabel gearing up to fling more snow in your direction. With a bitten off swear you sprint around the corner of the house to find Dipper chewing his lip over what looks to be a trajectory chart. You squat down beside him and start packing a snowball.

“I assume it’s those two against us?”

Dipper nods, still absorbed in his chart. “And Soos is keeping score since he’ll be impartial. Usually. Unless Melody is extra cute or something.” He pulls a face. “Glad to see they’re doing so good together but they’re almost as bad as you and Grunkle Stan.”

You laugh and poke your head around the corner of the house, gearing up to throw your snowball. It sails through the air and lands perfectly on Mabel’s face, a perfect payback from earlier. She splutters for a moment and then launches a few snowballs of her own, fast and one after the other. You manage to yank yourself back around the corner just in time and they splat harmlessly against the old wood of the shack.

“Your sister has quite the arm on her,” you remark to Dipper, who’s crouched low and waiting for the next opportunity to strike.

“Yeah, she got super into softball last year. I’d be willing to bet it was in preparation for opportunities like this.” Dipper stands up and flings his snowball as hard as he can. You don’t think it’s gonna make it, but a gust of wind catches it at the last moment and it plasters itself over the front of Melody’s coat. Dipper pumps his arm in triumph and scrambles out of the way as more snowballs start landing around him. He hisses at the cold as one breaks over his shoulder, but he escapes mostly unscathed.

The four of you spend the next hour or so hurling snow at each other, Soos keeping up a running tally from his comfortable seat on the front porch. After a while your fingers are numb, even through heavy gloves, and you can’t feel much of your face. Not to mention your stomach is growling… no wait. That’s coming from around the house.

You poke your head out from your hiding spot and feel your eyes go wide as dinner-plates at the sight of a miniaturized medieval siege weapon being hauled out of what you had assumed to be a large snowbank.

“Uhhhhh, whatcha got there, kiddo?” you say, eyes never leaving the catapult. The kid is related to Ford, after all, you should have expected this. Quite frankly though, you do not want a repeat of the man-sized mousetrap incident.

“Snowball catapult!” Mabel’s voice is full of unbridled glee. “It’s our secret weapon!”

Behind you, Dipper makes a noise of distress. With an overly dramatic sigh you step out from behind the building and stand, arms out and eyes closed. “Have mercy and make it quick, Mabel.”

Three things happen in rapid succession. There’s a loud squeal from Mabel followed by the threatening clunk of a releasing catapult, then you’re getting tackled to the ground as the enormous load of snow whizzes over your head. You thankfully land in a snowbank, head spinning as Soos scrambles up and off of you before offering you a hand. He looks over at Mabel and Melody with an unusual frown.

“Dudes. What if he’d gotten hurt? Mr. Pines’ll be back soon and what are we supposed to say? ‘Sorry your boyfriend got knocked out by your niece's snow catapult’?”

Mabel leans to look past you and winces. “Yeah, you might be right. I think I got the tension a little tight. Might need to test it more before it’s human-safe.”

You turn to look and are suddenly very relieved you got tackled, even though cold snow is dripping down your back. The snow from the catapult is plastered hard against a tree trunk off on the edge of the woods, a good deal farther than snowball fight snow has any right to go.

Soos looks at his watch and sucks a breath in through his teeth. “It’s almost time anyway, why don’t we all go back inside and I’ll get some warm drinks ready?”

_ Time for what?  _ you want to ask, but you don’t have the chance, getting herded back in alongside the kiddos. Fortunately only a little bit of snow had made its way inside your new sweater and you can leave it on. Socks and pants though are a lost cause and you grumble as you raid Stan’s drawers. Might as well get comfortable since he isn’t home yet... comfortable in his worn-out sweatpants and some thick wool socks that you definitely gifted him for stealing purposes.

You dither for a minute on whether or not to put the little wooden box from your luggage in your pocket. It’s slim enough not to show and you’ve gotten used to carrying it around, debating on the how and the when. In the end you slip it into your pocket just for comfort.

Now dry and warm, you thump back down the stairs to find the twins and Soos whispering over something in the kitchen. They stop when you enter the room, but Mabel has a grin on her face as she grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway.

“We had to give them time to get up and get set up on their end but you have good timing because they just texted me!” She drags you into Ford’s room/study/lair (honestly you aren’t entirely sure if the man ever sleeps when he’s in Gravity Falls, his room is 90% mad scientist lab) and pushes you towards a full-length rectangular wall mirror with an enthusiastic “TA DA!”

“It’s… a mirror,” you say a little dumbly, squinting at your own reflection in the glass. “What am I supposed to do with this I…” you’re cut off as a little light at the top of the mirror flickers to bright green and the surface of the glass  _ ripples.  _ You stumble forward with a startled cry as a hand  _ reaches out of the glass and grabs you by the front of your shirt. _

The next thing you know you’re falling through the glass of the mirror and into a familiar embrace. You can feel warm summer heat and hear the lap of the ocean outside, but all that pales in comparison to Stan Pines’ lips slotting over your own in a welcome if unexpected kiss.

“I still think we should have warned him, Stanley,” grouses Ford’s voice from the other side of the small room and you feel Stan’s lips twitch into a grin as he undoubtedly flips his brother off. You break apart as you hear the others follow you through the mirror, but Stan keeps one arm wrapped around your waist.

“Welcome to the Stan-O-War, babe,” he says, leaning up to press a whiskery kiss to your cheek. “We got the wormhole connected yesterday and I thought it might be a nice surprise.”

You glance over at the rectangular mirror on the wall, privately thinking it looks nothing like you imagined a wormhole would… and are surprised to discover you can see Ford’s room in the shack, as clearly as if you were in the next room. But even as you watch it flickers back to shining silver and the light at the top darkens.

“We started out with a mailbox and worked our way up from there,” says Ford, helping Mabel divest herself of a massive picnic basket. “Stanley pioneered some truly astonishing theories while he was working on well, you know... and one of them was the concept of pinching together two points in relative space-time…”

You can feel your eyes starting to glaze over and Stan rolls his eyes at his twin. “They ain’t followin’, Poindexter. Talk theory with Dipper over lunch, poor boy is practically salivating with questions.”

The next few minutes are spent herding family out of the research vessel and out onto the sands of a nearby beach. Stan shoves a swimsuit at you and pushes you into the bathroom to change. It’s one of yours that you must have left the last time you caught up with them at dock… which means you likely left appropriate footwear too.

Properly attired (and sprayed down with sunscreen - much to Stan’s disappointment you didn’t go for creme) you follow Stan outside and blink at the sudden golden heat of the sun. It’s fairly suffocating, honestly, and you find yourself missing the winter weather from the morning. You express this and he laughs.

“We’ll get back soon enough, but we got a good deal on docking fare here and figured we could bring the family over for a little summer fun in the middle of winter.” He slaps your ass to get you moving again. “Come on. I have it on good authority that Soos and Melody didn’t let Mabel near the sandwiches this time.”

“Good,” you mutter under your breath, heading towards the little party already on the beach. “Pretty sure my coffee was 30% glitter this morning.”

\-----

After lunch (a simple affair, blessedly glitter-free), Soos and Melody wander one direction down the beach and Ford takes the kiddos the opposite direction for some crab hunting. When you ask him if they’re ordinary crabs or some kind of mutant crab cryptid he shrugs and says “I guess we’ll find out!”

That is probably the least reassuring thing you have heard in a while.

As his family disappears down the beach, Stan relaxes a bit. You hadn’t realized how stiff he’d been and you idly wonder why. Between the picnic blanket and an umbrella Ford had produced from somewhere, you’re mostly protected from the harsh light of the sun and the uncomfortable grit of the sand. Stan had claimed the only folding beach chair with his “old man privileges” so now you sit on the ground next to him, leaning into his leg and staring out across the glittering water.

“This is a far cry from what I thought I’d be doing today,” you say after a long moment of silence. “I never thought I’d be having a snowball fight and then a couple hours later be lounging in the summer heat with you.”

Stan chuckles and reaches down to ruffle your hair with one meaty hand. “Yeah, it’s nice isn’t it? Proof that I can have one good idea in a blue moon.”

You tilt your head back to look at him, taking in the hint of a fond smile twitching at his lips as he looks back at you. “I feel like you’ve had a lot of good ideas, babe. You built a whole business on nothing but your ideas.”

“Huh, guess you’ve got a point.” Stan’s eyes shift off of you and he goes back to staring out across the water, a flush growing across his cheeks for seemingly no reason. “I’ve had a lot of ideas that went nowhere, but… I can think of at least one that worked out pretty well. Besides the wormhole.”

“Oh, what’s that?” You stop even pretending to look out at the ocean and turn to face Stan, leaning one cheek against his bare knee.

He coughs and looks down the beach in the direction of Ford and the Kiddos. “Well… actually maybe a few things. Not turning Sherms down when he asked if I could watch the kids… sticking around even though I didn’t understand anything about anything…” His gaze flicks to you and his ears grow pinker. “Asking some young whippersnapper if they wanted a private tour of the shack. Asking… asking the same whippersnapper to stick around because I couldn’t deal with everything alone anymore. Some of the best things in my life happened to me two summers ago because I stopped giving a single fuck. I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Except… maybe to make them better. Somehow.”

You could think of a few ways to make things better, one of them weighs heavy in your pocket after all, but you’re inclined to let Stan finish reminiscing. Some days he needs the reminder that everything happened, that the good things of that summer were real. This seems to be something different though, he’s remembering everything correctly and he has a soft smile on his face. A smile that you only ever see when he’s talking about his family and how much he loves them. And… it’s directed at you.

With a bit of a grunt and struggle, Stan pulls his beach chair to a mostly upright position so he can lean forward and draw you into a gentle kiss. You follow his lead eagerly, but not too eagerly since you’re still in public. You end up halfway in his lap, metal chair frame creaking ominously under your combined weight but miraculously holding. He’s got one arm around your back, holding you steady.

“I missed you, ya know,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “Out there on the open sea. I’m glad that… with the wormhole you can come visit a little more often, but I’d like it if…” He pauses and this close you can feel him swallow. It’s unlike Stan to be so nervous and you draw back with a frown. Stan’s looking down at his other hand, reached out and clasped around yours, and his ears are burning so brightly you could use them as a heat source if you weren’t under the sweltering summer sun.

Out of nowhere your heart starts hammering. Somehow, you know what the next words out of his mouth are going to be before he even says them. You’re already digging in your pocket with your free hand as he speaks again. “I’d like it if you could visit as my… my husband.”

“God damn it, Stan,” you say with a laugh, having finally managed to pull the little box free. “You beat me to it.” This is clearly not the reaction he was expecting and his eyes snap to yours, surprised.

“What is that? A yes?” His voice is gruff and his eyes are wide as he tries to gauge your reaction.

You can feel your eyes twinkling as you wave the box in front of his face. “I dunno, Stan. Does it sound like it might be a yes?” He goes to grab at the box and you pull it just out of his reach, only to bend down and press a kiss against his lips as he makes a swipe for it. You chuckle as he grumbles at you and then press the box into his open palm. “I’ve been carrying this in my pockets for weeks, trying to get up the nerves to ask and you beat me to it. So… yes, Stanley. This is a yes.”

Stan looks at the box, tiny in his broad hands, then swears and digs in his own pocket. “Knew I was fucking forgetting something. We can open them together.”

Where your box was a slim wooden case, the one he hands you is a more traditional black velvet ring box. He sets it in your hand and gingerly curls your fingers around it. “Look at it, tell me if you like it and I’ll put it on ya,” he says gruffly, and when you glance up at his face you can see that he’s surreptitiously trying to wipe away tears with the back of his hand. “You know, I never thought… after the  _ incident  _ in Vegas I… well, would you please hurry and open it already?”

You take a deep breath and flip open the lid, expecting a simple band or maybe something Stan had found on his travels. Instead, you open the box to find a hammered flat band set with glinting stones. You squint at it as you recognize the odd sheen of the metal from the alien craft that had been used in construction of the portal. Stan isn’t making eye contact again.

“I tinkered a bit with smithing back in the day, had to learn welding and all that junk for... well, you know. Ford and I decided we needed to salvage and reclaim some of the project materials and I saved this bit to make you a ring. I know it’s nothing fancy but you did see me through all that mess and I felt that maybe…” He’s rambling now, and you reach out and tilt his face back towards you. He stops as soon as your hand touches his cheek.

“I love it, Stan. I love you.” You drop your hand from his face only to hold it out. “Put it on, please?”

Stan exhales a shaky laugh and plucks the ring from it’s box, sliding it onto your hand with trembling fingers. It fits perfectly and the set-in stones twinkle brightly in the Australian sun.

You gesture for Stan to hold out his hand. “Your turn, love. You sure you’re willing to get legally attached to this whole mess?”

Stan’s laugh from before grows into a fond chuckle. “Babe, I’ve been attached to your mess since you got lost and wandered into the shack at closing hours. If I was any more attached it would be indecent.” He leers at you and waggles his eyebrows. You’d push him off his chair into the sand… but that would also topple you from your perch on his lap. Instead you sigh melodramatically and poke at the box still clenched in his fist. He takes the hint and opens it, squints at the ring inside and then looks up at you with an unreadable expression.

You know he’s seeing a polished dark-wood band with a stripe of equally polished amber around the middle. You’d picked up a chunk on one of your first “real” dates down to sneak around the dinosaur caves and it had lived in your pocket until you commissioned this ring. “The wood is from the repairs to the shack,” you say as he holds the ring up to the light. “It’s where we met so…” Gently tugging the ring out of his fingers, you just as gently grasp his hand and hold the ring ready to slide it on his finger. “Last chance to back out, Stanley.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me now.” His voice is choked and his cheeks are wet, but he’s smiling as you slide the ring home.

\-----

The rest of the afternoon passes in a sort of daze. At some point the rest of the family comes back to find the two of you snoozing on the picnic blanket under the shadow of the beach umbrella and Ford helpfully suggests everyone troop back through the wormhole to cool off in Oregon and maybe get some cocoa. Soos reminds him that it’s well past dinnertime in that part of the world and he admits that the former handyman might have a point.

You turn to Stan, raising an eyebrow and your newly be-ringed hand in silent question. He shakes his head subtly, lips twitching and eyes glinting with the spark of some mischievous idea. In all the years you’ve known Stan, that can only spell entertainment for you, so you shoot him a private smile and a nod. You’ll play along, see where this gets you.

What it gets you is bundled back into the chill air of Oregon, the new sweater from Mabel making sense after your afternoon in the sun. Speaking of Mabel… you half expected her to notice the new rings, but instead she and Dipper are nodding off with the time difference, nearly falling asleep until the sugar-laden cocoa kicks in.

By then you and Stan are snuggled warm under a blanket on the couch and your hands aren’t easily visible to curious teenage eyes. You yourself are starting to nod off as someone turns on some classic holiday movie. Soos’s voice filters in from a couple rooms away: the familiar cadence of ordering a pizza. Stan’s got an arm snaked around your shoulder, pulling you tight against his side. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and you let your head tilt back so you can see the smiling curve to his lips as he watches his gathered family.

His hand sneaks up to ruffle your hair. “Take a nap, I’ve got plans for the evening. Since we get two of them with the wormhole.”

You hardly need any more encouragement than that. Belly full of cocoa and warm against Stan’s side, your eyes fall shut. When you open them again, there’s a fire burning low in the living room fireplace and the tv is showing static. Ford is snoring softly in some sort of improvised blanket nest, buried under his two niblings, also asleep. Soos and Melody are nowhere to be seen, but there’s a box of pizza with a note on it on the coffee table.

Stan’s snoring not so softly on your shoulder but you manage to inch far enough forward to grab the box without completely dislodging your fiance.

Isn’t it odd…  _ fiance _ . It feels right and leaves a little tingle in your chest at the same time. You run your thumb over the metal band on your finger and pull the note off the top of the pizza box.

_ Hey dudes,  _ reads Soos’s handwriting.  _ Ya’ll seemed pretty out of it so Mel and I just let you sleep. There’s more pizza in the kitchen if you need it for the growing dudes. Also… Congratulations Mr. Pines, future Mr. Pines. The kiddos might have been too tired to notice, but I’ve been trained to see the little things by the best there is. Fair warning, I’ll probably hound you for the story tomorrow, but you seemed to want to keep it to yourselves for now. I can respect that. _

_ -Soos _

“Wazzup?” mutters Stan sleepily as he pushes up and off your shoulder. You hand him the note and dig into the pizza, miraculously still warm. Probably shack weirdness or… ah. Someone drew heat runes on the box with a sharpie. You snag a slice to quell the rather alarming rumbles coming from the direction of your stomach.

Beside you, Stan rubs at his eyes and adjusts his glasses before squinting at the note. He reads it twice before setting it down with a quiet laugh. “I don’t deserve that kid,” he says, stealing his own pizza slice. “But he’s right. I did wanna keep it for myself for just a little bit, be selfish. Also he’s right about me being the best. At a lot of things.” He waggles his eyebrows at you for the second time today and this time you really do lightly shove him with an amused snort.

“Hush, you old pervert,” you say in a mock-offended whisper. “There are children present.”

“You and I both know I meant the swindling and general havoc I leave in my wake,” he says, feigning innocence as he eats his pizza. You roll your eyes and follow suit.

After a few moments of silent munching, Stan looks at his watch and swears loud enough that there are discontent mutters from the other side of the room. “Damn, we gotta get moving, babe.” He hauls himself to his feet, audibly cracking his back with a grunt before offering you a hand up off the sofa.

“Going where?” You take the offered hand and get pulled all the way up into a kiss. The vaguely disgusted noise from Dipper tells you that the kids are awake.

“Weeeelllll…” Stan draws out the word, savoring the anticipation, and then speaks a little louder for the benefit of his eavesdropping family. “If we hurry, I might be able to catch an Australian sunset with my brand new fiance.”

Just hearing those words from Stan’s mouth has you like putty in his hands. You hear Mabel squeal and then Stan is tugging at your arm, hustling you down the hallway towards the wormhole. You laugh and go willinging, calling back to the kids and Ford that there’s pizza on the table and not to wait up.

Knowing Stan, he’s going to want to spend sunrise with you too.


End file.
